


Can't Stop

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Series: Olivia [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Sam Winchester, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Sam Winchester-centric, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been nearly 2 months since Liv has worked with Sam and Dean and that was no accident. She has avoided them since their <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1802887/chapters/3867154">disastrous reunion</a>, but that's why this job is such a big deal to Sam. Liv is finally back and Sam can't seem to shut his inner monologue off long enough to play it cool. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnabashedBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnabashedBird/gifts).



> This piece references two other fics in this series a few times. It works as kind of a coda for "[Attire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2217927)" and harkens back to events that took place in "[Oh Come, Be Buried...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1802887/chapters/3867154)" The events of "Can't Stop" actually straddle "Attire." Hope it all makes sense. Also this piece contains my first attempt at writing smut... so... um, there's that. Hahaha. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Song pairing: Can't Stop - One Republic ](http://open.spotify.com/track/62EsBz11VlUwSu3jFy7Rlo)

Sam was stuck in his head. He couldn’t get out and he had been there all day long. Yes, okay, he and Dean were on a case, and he could manage it fine being stuck in his head, but it wasn’t ideal and he knew it. Though _again_ , he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t. The job he was on was the first job he would work with Liv since their…

 

 _...falling out?... If that’s what it was..._ Is _that what it was?_

 

He wasn’t sure what to call it. What did you call the last year of Sam’s life? Really? What was something like that called?

 

In the last year he had thought his brother was dead -- _again, for the … how many times was this, again?-_ \- and mourned him bitterly. He left a girl he loved _(Liv obviously)_ , who consequently absolutely loved him back, as a way to protect her.

 

_God, saying it like that makes it sound so stupid now… What was I thinking?_

 

But to be fair to Sam --and Sam was rarely ever fair to Sam-- he wasn’t in the best mindset at the time, seeing things, hearing things, with the grief eating away at his reality like it was, so when he made the call, it seemed like the only way to free Liv of his toxicity, completely.

 

But after a year, none of it meant anything. Dean hadn’t been dead, he was just trapped in another dimension _\--Purgatory, who the fuck knew!--_ and he was mad as Hell that Sam hadn’t come looking for him. And turns out, leaving Liv didn’t do anyone any good. It just left a hole in both of them that nothing could seem to heal up. Throw all those factors and these three people back together suddenly after a year to simmer, and of course, disaster was bound to happen. Like always, it felt like it all fell on Sam, as so many burdens did.

 

All that to say, Sam couldn’t believe Liv had actually agreed to meet up with them again, _(finally!)_ , yet there she was on the phone, agreeing to drive into Chicago. It had been weeks, maybe even a couple months, since their unhappy reunion and subsequent explosion _(the… falling out?)_. Since then, they had only talked on the phone a few times, just casual conversions or texts, nothing big. She hadn’t let on that she had any interest of seeing Sam or his brother in person again, turning them down any time the suggestion even just seemed to maybe, perhaps come up.

 

_Until this job._

 

Liv had even picked up the phone on the first ring when Sam called her from his Chicago hotel room.

 

_Small thing._

 

Yet it gave him a stupid amount of relief. He never imagined that conversation would end with her driving out to meet them. It was a total surprise. The unexpected turn of events had made him a little light headed. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that this meant she not only had the capacity to forgive him but may finally be willing to try to rebuild some sort of relationship with him.

 

_...don’t get ahead of yourself._

 

What had changed to make her say yes to coming out, Sam did not know, but he didn’t want to push things or jinx them. (He fought the supernatural, it wasn’t weird of him to be slightly superstitious.) So he didn’t ask. Instead he took in deep breaths while waiting for her to arrive and continued to try to convince himself it wasn’t that big of a deal. He had handled so many things in his life, there were _lifetimes_ of life-handling under his belt, he was a _master_ life-handler.

 

_This should not be any big deal._

 

So he talked himself down into remaining calm, and continued to have to remind himself he was fine while he waited.  

 

He was in his head and he could not pull himself out. Thankfully, he was really good at faking that he wasn’t, so Dean would probably never know the difference.  

 

 


	2. Sam

“Dean, get the door, would you?”

Sam was very busy on his laptop across the room. He just could not leave what he was doing to open that door. Especially because he knew who was on the other side and he most definitely did _not_ want to seem over eager. Or give Dean any reason to speculate or pry. But mostly it was that he was _very_ busy.

Sam’s fingers twitched as he pretended to click through important research.

Dean groaned, hopping off his bed where he had been lounging. The door opened so abruptly it kind of blew Liv’s hair back a little. She blinked in surprise as two staring Winchesters were revealed behind it.

“Hey, guys,” she said, stepping in and laying down her bag on the bed. Sam suddenly forgot how busy he was, taking a few steps away from his laptop. He felt his hand lift up into a half wave as he caught Liv’s eye, but stopped himself.

_God, that’s pathetic._

Instead he smiled and nodded to greet her. She grinned in return and he thought he saw her cheeks blush but he couldn’t be sure. Was it warm in here? Was it hot outside? Had she rushed in from her car? Was Sam imagining things? Yes?

_Jesus, it’s only been 17 seconds, chill._

“So what have we got?” Liv inquired, wasting no time to get started on the case.

“Basically nada,” Dean replied, closing the door behind him. “We got his name and the nightclub he owns." 

“Anything on your end?” She turned to Sam.

Sam glanced at the blank screen on his laptop. “Well, feuds between different crime families have been claiming more victims than just opposing monsters,” he explained. This was info he had discovered days before, but that didn’t make it any less true. “The number of human victims have grown over the last month.”

“Things are getting out of control,” Dean stated.

“Okay,” Liv replied. “Sounds like we need to do some more digging and then--”

“No,” Dean interrupted. “We have a location, we know the guy’s name. I say we strike. We just go in.”

“Go in?” Liv crossed her arms but her eyebrows were cocked in amusement. Sam felt his face pull into what he figured was a stupid smile, but he couldn't help it. I forgot how much he loved watching Liv give Dean a hard time. “It sounds like we know next to nothing but you’re ready to just ‘go in’?”

“We know people are dyin’. Ain’t that enough?” Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam who stood behind Liv. Sam tried to straighten out his grin.

“And I want to stop that from continuing but it’s not going to do us any good to rush in, blind.”

“We only have one shot at this once we go after Jiminez,” Sam broke in. “Once we reveal we’re onto him, that’s it.”

Liv inclined her head towards Sam as if to say ‘See?’

Dean sighed. “We wait one more night, more innocent people are gonna die. You guys want that on you--?”

“Come on, Dean!” said Liv. “Preparation will help us, and therefore help them.” Dean grumbled something under his breath. Liv rolled her eyes. “I know it’s been a while, Dean, but you’re acting like this is the first time you’ve worked with me.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, knowing you, you probably need time to write us up a script for the stake out and pick out costumes from your trunk for us to wear.”

“Sounds better than the Dean Winchester show: Barge In With No Plan and Waste Our One Chance Anyway.”

Dean sighed exasperatedly but a small smile threatened his lips. “Why did we call her again?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

_This among many reasons..._

“I’ve missed you, too, Dean,” Liv retorted.

Dean’s face got serious again. “Look, O, you're back, that's cool --or whatever-- but we’re goin’ to that club tonight. You can either come with us or not, but that’s what’s happening. You have a few hours until then, but that’s all the time I’m willing to give.”

Liv bit her bottom lip thoughtfully for a second then seemed to snap into a decision. “Fine, okay,” she said, grabbing her bag back up off the bed and heading for the door. “I’m going to get a room and do some digging. I’ll meet you guys back here in a few hours.”

“Good,” Dean replied, smugly.

“And Dean,” she said as she opened the door to go. “When we go to the club, be prepared to have the Impala valeted.” She smiled sweetly as the color drain from Dean’s face. She winked at an amused Sam before the door clicked shut behind her.

“Valet?” Dean turned to Sam, slightly panicked. “I can’t let some random valet driver be in charge of Baby!”

And from there Dean spun into a needless overreaction vortex that Sam ignored. Sam was swimming through the thoughts in his head and it grew more clear by the second that he was in _such_ trouble. He had spent a year depriving himself of Liv, starving himself of her, but all of a sudden, he was getting to be around her. And she _chose_ to be in his presence. It made him crave her in a totally new way. He had forgotten how great it was to have an ally around Dean, and memories of how smart and funny Liv was didn’t do the real thing justice. He thought he had prepared himself but maybe there was no way to do that properly. He couldn’t know how much he really missed her until she was there.

“...because of some pepperoni-faced valet boy! Ya know? Sammy…? Sammy, you in there?”

Sam felt Dean tapping on the back of his head. He had totally spaced out through the rest of Dean’s rant.

“Yeah, Dean, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“What?”

“I’ll be right back.” And before Dean could respond, Sam was out the door, too.

_So much for not seeming over-eager._

Liv was just a few strides down the hall, digging through her purse when he caught her.

“Hey,” said Sam, putting a hand out to tap her shoulder lightly. She whipped around, looking up at him with a surprised smile.

She returned a breathy _“Hi.”_

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t need help bringing anything in.”

“Oh, you know…” She shuffled her purse around again and brought out her car keys. “I’m good, actually. I’ve got to run an errand or two, so I’m not even going to bother just yet.”

“Okay,” Sam conceded. “Just let me know later, then.”

“Of course. I’ll bring my work to your room when I get back.” She laid her hand on his arm for just a second. Sam became immediately frustrated that even something as small as that could cause a booming in his chest. “Thanks, Sam.” Then she was walking away, the sound of her saying his name still ringing in Sam’s ears. He watched her go, hair swishing behind her, the bottom band of her sweater riding up around her waist and her jeans riding low across her hips, and…

_No! None of that._

He spun around on his heels and headed straight back to his hotel room to try to re-clear his head before he saw her again.

 


	3. Sam

Seeing Liv’s smile, hearing the sound of her voice as she laughed, the touch of her hand on his arm made Sam realize something: all his _‘it’s not big deal, you’re gonna be fine, just stay calm’_ stuff he used to chill himself out before she arrived was complete and utter _bullshit_. He hadn’t meant it to be, however actually physically interacting with this girl after so long shoved that fact into rather harsh perspective.

 

He was vulnerable, an immediate casualty to his feelings.

 

But like Sam does, like the professional-life-handler he tended to be, he _handled_ it. He didn’t let the fact that he’d been so utterly compromised by her presence show. He buried it under his usual calm, composed exterior, under snark and banter, under discussion of lore and research, under disagreements with Dean, and occasionally under a deep breath he had to take to steady himself.

 

He looked good under that mask and he wore it well. Some might call it his specialty.

 

The errands Liv had to run that afternoon had been to get a new dress and shoes to wear to the club. She showed up at the Winchesters’ door looking incredible which put Dean in a terribly grumpy mood and sent Sam secretly spiraling out of control, but only on the inside. It was her way, she always used theatrics and blending in to work cases.

 

_We are going to a nightclub after all..._

 

The only thing shocking about it was how shocked Sam’s senses were to see her that way.

 

_Get it together, keep it together, you moron._

 

Sam couldn’t afford to cut himself any slack.

 

It was like walking a tightrope and he didn’t want to shift the balance in the wrong direction. Everything about this visit needed to be in Liv’s control. She only just now agreed to work with them, if Sam let his stupid romantic feelings for her show, it could ruin everything.

 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered the reality of what working with her as just partners would feel like. At first he assumed it would be a lot like before they dated, when they worked together and he just liked her but couldn’t let her get close, refused to allow her to get mixed up in his murky life, but… that assumption was incredibly inaccurate, to say the least. When they walked up to that Chicago club and Liv used her classically unorthodox methods to nail this job, Sam found it was not a _thing_ like before. This was going to be much harder to manage. He had been in so deep with this girl that his heart and body couldn’t pretend the way his face and brain could.

 

He felt like it was being stuck on a ledge that he could not step away from, even though at any moment he was sure he’d fall over the side.

 

And it didn't help that there wasn't something external to deter him. Sam didn’t see pain in Liv’s eyes. She smiled. She laughed. She linked arms with him and brought her eyes all the way up to his face when they spoke. He didn’t feel tension in her voice or the way she moved around him. The fact that this made his heart rate jump up caused his mind to scream at him to _chill_ out once again, hoping he at least didn’t _look_ over excited by how well the night was going. He wanted to allow things between him and Liv to continue the way they were, because no matter where they were heading, it had to be some place better than before.

 

_Right?_

 

Yes, okay so he was on a ledge, but maybe he could be really careful. After all, his pokerface was one of the best around.

 

Even so, Sam kept getting really frustrated that he had to periodically remind himself that the point of getting her to join them again wasn’t to win her back. She didn’t need to know that was in his mind or that he kept trying to decode her movements, her touch, the way her eyes seemed to linger on him.

 

_… or did they?_

 

He didn’t know! Was he seeing something or just wishing he was seeing something? He’d get wrapped up in questions like this and then he’d have to yell at his wandering mind to _fucking chill._ Because again… that was not the point!

 

_Ease off, Sam, just be glad she’s here._

 

Luckily for Sam, he could use his insecurities to his advantage. It was hard for him to trust his intuition about her because his self doubt was never louder than when someone showed interest in him. Remarks like _“But would she want me after everything?”_ and _“She could never, not anymore,”_ and _“You’re imagining things, stop being stupid,”_ cropped up any time he thought he caught some flirtation, causing him to never be completely sure of himself. This helped him to dismiss those pesky suspicions of Liv sending him signals.

 

On a job it rarely occurred to Sam to second guess himself. He’d make a judgment call and he usually could be sure it was the right call most every time.  It was funny and kind of terrifying how less of a risk he felt when in actual danger than he did when things seemed to be teetering on a wire with Liv. He really couldn’t screw this up.

 

What a terrible first try this would be for them, to burn more of this bridge their first job back together instead of building some of it back. He wasn’t sure which he was contributing to. It was such a fine line.  


	4. Sam

Returning to the hotel after the job flanked by Dean and Liv felt pretty awesome. This was like it used to be, the way it was supposed to be, and Sam kind of reveled in it. Plus, after the initial awkwardness wore off earlier in the day, everyone kind of settled into their familiar roles. Dean and Liv wouldn’t stop picking at each other, Sam chuckled lightly about it, and they all fell to working like a well-oiled machine again. As far as a reunion can go, Sam figured it couldn’t have gone much better.

Liv lingered at his and Dean’s door while Dean fumbled with his keycard. Sam made note of this, like he had made notes of anything she had done throughout the night that could be analyzed. Liv could have gone on to her room, but she didn’t.

He was chronically in his head.

“Finally,” Dean grumbled when he got the door open. “I’m heading straight to bed.” He turned in the doorway to eye Liv and Sam. A weirdness wafted through the air but Sam wasn’t sure if it was because there was actual tension or because Dean was making it awkward. “Er, ‘night.” With that, Dean darted inside and left the door to swing shut as if to say _‘In or out, Sammy.’_ Sam caught it and stood in the threshold.

“Uh,” he faltered. There really was tension. “Well, goodnight.” He smiled hesitantly down at her.

She raised an eyebrow and dipped her head a little with a grin. “Night, Sam.” Now without the high of the hunt or the distraction of research, everything settled into a charged calm and he was very aware that they didn’t really know how to make casual small talk.

She turned to go slowly, without looking back. Sam watched her take a few steps, a tether pulling tighter and tighter, tugging at his chest the further down the hall she got until finally he just blurted out her name for absolutely no reason. He was still holding the door open and could see Dean shaking his head with a smirk until he let the door close him out into the hall, patting all his pockets to make sure he had his own room key.

This is what Liv saw when she turned to respond to him calling her name. As she re-approached him, an amused smile grew wider and wider across her face.

Sam landed on the correct pocket just as Liv replied with a “Yes?” which caught him off guard because he didn’t really have anything to say, plus he probably looked like an idiot bumbling around his pockets. But, whatever, he wanted a little more time with her. It just used to be a lot easier to acquire. Now he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“I…” he stuttered, pulling his keycard out and then putting it right back. “I just wanted to tell you that it was great to get to work with you again.”

_Okay, that wasn’t too bad._

Liv cocked her head to the side. “Oh, yeah?” She was standing in front of him again. She smiled. Sam relaxed. Liv wasn’t hedging and she didn’t seem to be trying to find an easy out that could get her right back to her room. Sam exhaled in relief. Maybe this didn’t have to be complicated.

“Yeah,” he answered, leaning against the door frame. “It’s been a long time.”

She nodded in agreement and leaned against the other side of the doorframe. He let himself look directly at her for longer than three seconds for the first time all night. Earlier when they had been staking out the club, she wore a dress that hugged her body and begged him to let his eyes wash over her form, and he kept glancing. He hadn’t meant to, but he kept catching himself doing it, though he tried to interrupt himself every time. Now she was back in what she usually wore to hunt: jeans and a slouchy sweatshirt with a gym bag thrown over her shoulder that held her dress and heels from before (and probably a weapon or two), her auburn hair pulled back in a low braid with wisps falling around her face.

He liked this just as much and in the calm that fell between them he let himself look at her and really take her in.

“Everything has been so crazy,” she began, breaking the silence. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you that I like the new look.” She waved her hands at the sides of her head to mime the shape of how Sam’s wavy hair fell around his face. He realized she had been looking at him, too. It made Sam a little self conscious, so he ran his hand through his hair absent mindedly.

An “Oh!” slipped from his slightly startled lips. He felt his cheeks burn just a little. “Um, thanks. I’ve never had my hair this long before.”

“It’s good!”

“Thanks.” Sam chuckled, running his hand through his hair again.

“But you’re missing your Darcy sideburns.”

His brows collided in confusion. “My what?”

“You know!” she laughed. “Your Mr. Darcy sideburns.”

Sam’s mouth hung open in befuddled amusement.

“Don’t you remember?” Liv exclaimed, throwing her palms up. “I told you the way you used to trim your sideburns reminded me of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice? And then we went on this --like, hour-long tangent about Jane Austen versus the Bronte sisters?”

“Oh, yeah!” A dawning expression washed over Sam’s face. “And Dean was so annoyed listening to us argue he stopped at a rest stop to escape it?”

“Uh huh!”

“We were on our way to… was it Denver?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

 _“That’s_ how that conversation started?”

She nodded, stepping towards him. “Yeah, and I teased you about how you might look wearing a stuffy, ruffly shirt and stockings like they used to wear.” She laughed again. She was very close to him. She lowered her voice. “But a long jacket with coat tails wouldn’t look so bad.” Her eyes lingered at his chest, but then traveled up until they found his face again.

Sam shook his head in distracted agreement.

Liv’s hand came up to brushed Sam’s face, tracing the shape of where his facial hair used to be. Sam froze. His eyes locked on her face as she seemed fixated on his cheek. All night he starved for any touch, any contact they could have, and he hoped for something like this, something intimate like what they used to have, but he never expected it. He didn’t want to move and disrupt it and end it.

Her eyes met his. “What made you change?”

Sam’s brows pulled together. “I’m not sure,” he breathed. “I changed a lot last year.”

The corners of Liv’s mouth turn sadly upward in response. Her hand fell from Sam’s cheek to rest on his shoulder. For a moment, her eyes seemed to focus in and out over and over, like she was trying to decide to say something or not, but then all she did was take in a deep breath. “It was good to be working with you guys again, too.”

Her hand fell back to her side. Their eyes lingered for one more moment, then she turned to go. She didn’t look back. Sam didn’t stop her.

 


	5. Sam

 

He hadn’t imagined her hand on his face. He hadn’t imagined the dewy-eyed look she left him with. He hadn’t imagined the searching glances she wore the whole time they had been talking in the hallway. He hadn’t imagined any of those things, he was pretty sure. The whole time they talked he felt he was in a haze, but as Liv's door clicked shut behind her, everything seemed a lot clearer, like the sound echoing in the silent, empty hall snapped him into a reality that seemed to line up with his hopes for once.

 

He decided to blame what he did next on the smoke in the air of the club, the sight of her dancing with some other guy, and the fact that he had worked so, so hard to pretend he didn't want things to end up exactly here since she arrived at their hotel. It was a valiant effort and he had gone down swinging, but nobody could blame a feather for getting swept up in a storm, and that's how he felt as he headed after her, towards the door of her hotel room.

 

Or was this the feeling of falling off the ledge? He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

 

He hesitated, leaning a hand on the doorframe.

 

The entire day he had told himself not to let her see how much he wanted her. The entire day he thought that would delay any progress they could make. But what if what she wanted was for him to give in? What if letting his mask crack was the chance to build a bridge back to what they had before everything was ruined. What if she wanted him to be weak? No one else could see him give in. Just her. He was nearly certain he had read her accurately. What if letting himself have exactly what he wanted was exactly what they needed?

 

He took in a deep breath then tapped lightly on her door.

 


	6. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Song pairing** \-  [Love Me Like You Do](https://open.spotify.com/track/6iEDVsbUBGckKhuSBD3Eqf) by Elie Goulding, [Talking Bodies](https://open.spotify.com/track/2tpfxAXiI52znho4WE3XFA) by Tove Lo

Liv pulled the door open just enough for her body to fill the space. She wore a surprised expression and she was breathing harder than she had been just moments before in the hallway. Her hair was falling out of her braid like she had just taken it down to sleep. She said nothing, only stared up at Sam, steadying herself between the doorframe and the door.

Sam loomed over her, a sadness creeping into his expression. He began to regret making a bold move like this until he felt a tug on his shirt at his waist and felt his body collide with hers. Suddenly, he was in the room, fingers curling through her hair, lips finding and kissing every part of the skin between her chin and her shoulders. He heard her exhale eagerly against his ear, a soft whimper escaping her lips, and it ignited him so he grabbed her tighter and seared a path of kisses back to her face. Her lips welcomed him. She kissed him hungrily, fiercely, and surprisingly so. Sam found himself being pushed back against the door, slamming it shut, but the collision didn’t break them apart.

Liv’s hands fell from Sam face and dragged down across his chest until Sam felt her begin to undo the buttons on shirt. He never paid much attention to the shirts he threw on each morning, but he had never been so glad to be wearing pearl snaps before. She allowed only enough space between herself and him to tear the shirt open, then dove back into his arms, her body pressed against his bare chest as her mouth worked up over his collarbone and across his neck to a sweet spot just under his ear. He bit his bottom lip.

Sam's hands washed over her body, cascading down her back, to her hips, pulling her against him. Then he brought his hands up, slowly, under her shirt and felt her soft, burning skin. With no effort, she was free of the sweatshirt as he pushed himself away from the wall, backing her up towards the bed. He threw his shirt to the side as they went.

He leaned her backward onto the bed, laying her on her back, her legs falling over the end, one knee on either side of his legs. He bent over her, kissing her deeply, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. He felt her hands grip tight on the muscles of his back, pulling him down closer, threatening to tip his balance and cause him to come spilling down on her, joining her on the bed. Instead his lips broke away from hers and he pulled away a bit, hovering above her with his hands bracing him on either side of her. Her eyes searched his in the abruptness of his departure as she tried to catch her breath. A smile played at Sam's mouth and he brought his face slowly back down to the crook of her neck.

There he worked his lips and tongue slowly, deliberately, against her skin, dragging his mouth across her neck until he felt her hands grip his hair, entangling her fingers through it. He traveled farther down, caressing the skin around her bra with his lips. Liv tensed in response, another yelp escaping her mouth. With a swift arch against the bed, the bra was gone, tossed aside in the blink of an eye, and just as fast her hands were back in Sam's hair, holding on for dear life, as he catered with unmatched attention to the area he knew drove her the most crazy. She couldn't help but whimper in frustration, buck underneath him, trying to draw his full weight onto her. He teased on, dragging his mouth and hands below her breasts to her tummy, her ab muscles clenching as she tried to keep her composure. He knew just how to excite this reaction in her, every reply to his touch spurred him on.  

He was on his knees, then, against the edge of the bed with Liv's knees on either side of him. She was still sprawled back, breathing heavily and watching him with anticipation. His eyes washed over her flat stomach, her belly button and the jeans just below it that still hugged across her hips the way he noticed they had earlier in the day. His fingers traced the skin around the top of them, flirtatiously. Sam's eyes darted up to Liv's face. Her teeth chewed at her bottom lip and she bit back a shudder as he caressed her skin. Then he was unbuttoning her fly, then he was pulling off her jeans, then he was freeing her of panties and continuing his journey traveling down her body.

As his lips found their mark he felt Liv’s palms slam against the bedspread. She clenched up and moans she could no longer contain burst from her mouth. She arched against the bed, over and over, rolling her pelvis. Sam’s large hands cradled her ass, holding her hips in place as he worked. He knew she was building as her movements and sounds became more rapid, more desperate, but to his surprise, with a cry of his name, he felt her tug him up to her before he was done. She sat forward off the bed so that Sam and her were upright just at the edge, Sam still on his knees, breathing hard. She washed her hands over his chest and down his abs, landing on the zipper of his jeans.

She tore at it until it was undone. Sam stood to step out of his pants and his boxers followed, swiftly. For a second he was a little self conscious. It had been a long time since he had been naked in front of her and for the first time since he found himself in her room, he let his head speak louder than his desire for her, but any stitch of doubt was chased away when he realized how she was staring at him, the way Liv’s eyes washed over his form, her expression impatient, the flush in her cheeks only growing as she waited to be skin to skin with him. She pushed herself from the bed and collided with his body once again, lips devouring whatever skin she could find, like she was starving and he could save her, allowing her naked body to touch every part of him, hungrily trying to sate her craving for him. Then she locked her arms around his neck in a deep kiss as he lifted her from the ground.

As they fell back in a heap on the bed, Sam fixed Liv’s legs around him, stroking his hand up her thigh slowly as his mouth covered hers. As he thrusted into her for the first time, another breathless cry came from Liv against his lips, charging  him, making his hunger for her grow. He felt his core tremor. From there, every quavering sound Liv made, every shaky breath she heaved urged him on to try to gain another, to capture as many as he could until she was breathlessly calling to him, producing sharp moans punctuated with his name, until she couldn’t even think clear enough to scream his name, until she clung to him like she might cease to exist without him and everything that had ever pulled them apart disappeared completely and indefinitely. 

Liv fell asleep in the hollow of his body, her head tucked snuggly just under his chin in the crook of his neck. He covered her with the sheet and smoothed her hair out across the pillow. Then he kissed her forehead as he laid next to her, over and over again, caressing her shoulder, tracing the skin from there to her forearm and back. He was calm as he breathed her in, and with not a thought in his head, Sam fell blissfully to sleep.

 


	7. Liv

Liv exploded straight up in bed as if an invisible force tore her out of sleep with vengeance. Sam was gone, he’d left in the middle of the night even though she had fallen asleep right next to him. She had been curled up in his arms.

 

_… how could this happen again? Again!_

 

She gasped for breath. How could she have let this happen to her twice?

 

Only, she hadn’t. Sam wasn’t gone, he was lying right next to her, sleeping still, soundly. Her jolt awake hadn’t woken him. When reality set in and her nightmare subsided she tried to steady her breathing, covering her face with trembling hands. Tears burned the sides of her eyes.

 

Liv’s mind raced and she couldn’t shut it off. Since the last time she and Sam had worked together, she couldn’t help but fixate on all the revelations of the last year. It’s why she could never bring herself to come back around the Winchesters. She’d consider taking Sam up on his invitations only to overthink, obsess, and ultimately psyche herself out of even trying. She was always so much in her head.

 

The only way she made it out to Chicago this time was to shut her brain off and act without thinking, completely. Sam’s ringtone sounded and she just answered it, no hesitation. He was on the other end talking about a case he could really use her perspective on, so she said she was in. Once she was on her way, she had to talk herself into continuing the drive a few times --She’d take it slow and just ease back into things. This didn’t have to be a big deal-- and eventually she made it to their hotel regardless of her misgivings.

 

Once she was around Sam and Dean again, everything seemed to settle. Her head stopped buzzing about what-ifs and maybes, about hurt feelings and who had wronged who. She just felt glad to be there and pretend the last year could be overcome that easily.

 

_Wow, was that stupid…_

 

What had she done? She had _not-thought_ herself right back into bed with Sam Winchester.

 

_My god, it was …_

 

It was good. There was no denying that. It was everything she wanted. Well, technically everything her body had wanted.

 

_Body and heart._

 

But not her mind. Because her mind considered things like _“What if you can’t survive this again?”_ and _“Should you ever be_ that _vulnerable with anyone?”_ and _“SELF PRESERVATION. SELF PRESERVATION. RUN. RUN. DO NOT ENGAGE,”_ which she now fully regretted putting on the back burner. She wasn’t ready for this to have happened, already.

 

_Oh, God…_

 

Yet there she was, naked in bed.

 

_After one fucking night back._

 

So much for taking it slow and easing back in.

 

_Christ! You’re an idiot!_

 

 


	8. Liv

“Are you okay?”

Liv jumped, startled to hear Sam’s voice next to her. He sat up, leaning against the headboard, his hand gently stroking her back.

“Liv? What’s wrong?”

She let loose an uneasy sighed. “I… don’t know.”

Sam’s brow furrowed and Liv thought she saw the outline of his shoulders drop in disappointment.

_Why did I let this happen…?_

“Okay,” she surrendered. _Just be honest._ “I’m freaking out.”

Sam said nothing, he just searched her face, waiting for a better explanation. She couldn’t stand the way he was looking at her. Liv reached up and moved a strand of hair away from his face, and for a second was hung up looking into his sad eyes.

_Jesus, be weaker, Olivia, wow._

“I can’t do this,” she blurted out, a little louder than she meant to. She leaned back against the headboard and tried to reel herself in. “I just… I can’t do whatever this is, right now.” She felt her throat tighten as she continued. “Tonight, when I was wrapped up in you, it felt … like, I don’t know, perfect? Amazing and perfect like I’m pretty sure ‘we’re’ supposed to feel, you know? Like the last year didn’t even happen." She hesitated. She probably sounded like an idiot. Or a cliche.  _Or like I'm playing with him. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks I'm playing with him?_   She had to do a better job of explaining but all she seemed to be able to achieve was word vomit. "But then you disappeared. I looked and you were just gone, and everything came rushing back to me, and I woke up in a panic until I realized it was just a dream. Or a nightmare… or a flashback. I don’t know! And you were still here, here with me, now, in this room. But--”

“Liv--”

“I don’t know what any of this means," she continued, trying to further clarify herself. "What we did, what we are --and I wanted it, I _still_ want it! It’s not that-- I just can’t seem to process--”

The guilt that was cast over Sam almost made the room darker. Liv felt like he might be shrinking. She couldn’t regret the last 24 hours more than she did at the moment.

_How could you let this happen? You’ve probably ruined everything._

A tear trickled down Liv’s cheek. She was ashamed and weak and stupid.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean,” Sam assured her.

“I want it to mean that everything’s back to normal,” she whimpered, letting herself sink down to lean against his shoulder, “and that last year is healed. That it’s fine.” Sam’s arm slid around her and he laced his fingers through her hair as he leaned his cheek against her forehead.

“But it doesn’t mean that...” Sam finished, though it as almost like a question.

“No..."

They leaned on one another like that for quite a while, Liv wasn’t really sure of how long it was. Then Sam kissed her forehead two more times, climbed off the bed to gather his things, and get dressed. Liv watched him shuffle around in the dark. With every movement he seemed farther and farther away. Finally, he had put himself back together and stood over her at the bedside.

“I’m--” he faltered. His voice was uneven. “Liv, I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” she whispered. 

Sam cradled the back of her head as he bent down to kiss her goodbye and Liv threw her arms around his neck. He started to pull away but she refused to let him go. Neither really wanted her to, anyways. He let himself be pulled down again, collapsing to sit next to her. He crushed her into a hug, breathing in the scent of her hair. Liv nuzzled at his face until her lips found his and they shared one last deep kiss. Then he pulled away without another look into her face and was gone.

Liv let loose a sharp sob as the door closed behind him. She felt obliterated and knew it would be a long time before she would be able to turn off her racing thoughts.

 


	9. Dean

Dean rolled over with a groan. The sound of keys on a laptop clicking brought him to full consciousness.

_What time is it? It can’t be morning--_

His eyes became slits as he took in the darkness of the room in relief. The only light was from Sam’s computer screen from the table by the door and it painted Sam’s face a blue shade, as the light was cast only onto him. The clock next to his bed said it was nearly 4 AM. Dean was still too caught between waking and sleeping to make out Sam’s expression but he had to assume it was pleasant, considering where Sam had been.

“I see you’re back, Sammy!” Dean croaked through a yawn from the bed.

The sudden exclamation surprised Sam and Dean saw his brother jump a little in his chair at the sound. Sam raised his eyebrows, acknowledging Dean in irritation.

Dean went on. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you and O were…” he trailed off to make a hand gesture Sam most likely couldn’t see in the dark.

“No, it’s not like that,” came Sam’s cold reply. He didn’t take his eyes off his laptop.

“No?” Dean lifted up, leaning on his elbow in confusion. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and squinted to see Sam better in the dark. “I was sure that--”

“No,” Sam replied, sharply.

“Just no?”

“Yeah, Dean, what else do you want?”

Guilt found a way to creep into Dean’s head for just a second as his sleepy brain tried to process through this. He knew Sam had ended up in Liv’s room, he had watched them interact all night. They kept side eyeing each other, checking each other out while the other wasn’t looking, letting their hands touch and meet parts of the other and linger there. That kind of stuff just doesn’t happen if you aren’t interested, Dean knew it. He couldn’t help but notice it happening all night because it grossed him out and all he wanted was for them to come clean to each other so they could move on and the three of them could get back to normal.

Everything had been so fucked up ever since he returned from Purgatory and he was tired of it, but considering how much he had contributed to how things were was not something he liked to think about very long.

The inevitable ending of tonight was for those two crazy kids to make up and put all their dramatic bullshit in the past with a nice hayroll. So what went wrong? Why was Sammy back in their room, bitterly clicking through his laptop instead of tangled up with this girl he was nuts for, down the hall?

“It’s not because of anything I said ---?” Dean regretted blurting this out immediately. Of course it hadn’t been because of him. He hadn’t caused that much trouble for Sam. Probably.

_If anything, Sammy must have messed this up._

He heard Sam sigh. “No,” he said. “I would have told her everything anyways…” Sam pushed himself away from the table in frustration. “And that isn’t even the main issue. I mean, there is no issue. It’s just… we’re not.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like listening to his kid brother stumble through his sentences like this when he was usually so good with words.

_Sammy must have been seriously rejected._

“Things are different now.” Sam spoke with finality.

“I could .. talk to her--” Even though Sam was sitting back in his chair and away from the light of his laptop, Dean could still tell he was receiving a pretty epic bitchface in the dark. “Yeah you’re right, that wouldn’t do much good…”

“I figured we could head toward Philly in the morning,” Sam added, changing the subject, clicking his computer mouse.

“Whatever,” Dean grunted, rolling back over to return to sleep. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll fill you in on this case I ran across in the morning.”

“You riding with me or O?”

“Liv won’t be with us.”

“Wait --what?” Dean got tangled in his sheets as he turned back over in his bed to face Sam again. This was worse than he thought. “How do you know?”

Sam's eyes flickered across the room, towards the window that overlooked the parking. “She’s already gone.”


End file.
